 Schoolchildren on the remote island of Witu dress up for sing-sing |
The entire village, it seemed, was lined up along the shore in anticipation of our arrival. Infants clung nervously to their mothers’ knees, while older children milled together pointing and chatting feverishly. The next event caught us all by surprise.
Bursting forth from the low scrub came perhaps a dozen “warriors” howling with all the fury of the devil. Draped in what appeared to be seaweed, they each brandished a weapon; clubs, bows and arrows and long, sharp spears which were precisely targeted at us. One particularly determined chap had his fearsome lance aimed right for my camera. Fortunately only his eyes were drilling holes in me.
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